


The Purge

by cleo4u2



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Purge (Movies)
Genre: Comics/Movie Crossover, Gen as fuck, M/M, Mentions of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 07:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15552438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleo4u2/pseuds/cleo4u2
Summary: A glimpse as to what the world would be like with the Purge and our un-powered heroes.





	The Purge

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to our usual beta, , [NurseDarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/profile), because she is a perfect human being that agreed to beta kinks she doesn’t like too much for us. All hail the Glow Cloud!

Natasha Romanoff crossed her legs, eyeing her former boss.

“I don’t work for the government any more. I don’t know why you’re even here.”

“I’m well aware of your employment status, Romanoff,” Nick Fury said, dry and steady and familiar. It was difficult to remember she wasn’t his agent now and they weren’t at CIA headquarters. “That’s why I’m here.”

Natasha had played the game long enough to read between those lines. Whoever it was Fury wanted her to protect, they had pissed off the New Founding Fathers. The government was after them, and no one inside could be trusted. You didn’t just go up against the NFF and walk away unscathed, not before Purge Night.

“Why me?” Feigning nonchalance, Natasha leaned back in her chair. “I’m not the only ex- operative you know.”

“You’re the only one I trust.”

There it was, out in the open between them, and still Natasha’s eyebrows broke rank and shot toward her hairline in surprise. They had never been the honest kind. You couldn’t be, with the work they did. Had done, she reminded herself. She had quit years ago. No more Purge Night massacres for her, no. Natasha was cleaning her ledger.

“Assuming I agree,” Natasha spread her hands, “who am I protecting?”

“Charlie Roan.”

Natasha sat forward so fast her boots thumped against the carpet of her dining room-turned-office. For the first time, she was glad Fury had come to her home and not summoned her to his, or to his office. Charlie Roan was making a bid for president. Charlie Roan wanted to end the Purge for good. Charlie Roan was the NFF’s biggest threat. No Purge, no New Founding Fathers, no money pouring into their well-lined coffers.

Fury didn’t smirk, but he didn’t have to.

“Should I take that as a yes?”

Natasha swore at him in Russian.

“That didn’t sound like a no.”

“She’s the reason they discontinued the ban. She’s the reason we can kill government officials in this year’s Purge.” Fury nodded. “She’ll have an army of mercs after her, and you think I’m gonna risk my life for hers?”

Without missing a beat, Fury said, “Yes.”

Natasha swore at him again, then stood, pacing from one end of her office to the other. “This is insane.” Remaining quiet, Fury kept seated on the other side of her heavy oak desk. “You won’t have government agents protecting her.” Fury shook his head and she stopped at the matching oak bookshelves, turned and paced past the heavy curtains hiding the rooms windows. “Just me.”

“And me,” Fury shifted, his leather coat creaking, “and I hoped you might know some people.”

At the far side of the room, Natasha stopped before the picture of her with the last president. Shaking hands, smiling, happy because she thought she’d been doing good work. God, she’d been such a fool. Charlie Roan was going to put a stop to the Purge and Natasha already knew she would help keep her safe, or more likely die trying. That was why Fury had come to her, though, and not some other ex-operative. Natasha spent every Purge out there, in the city, helping people the only way she knew how. Killing people.

“I know some people.”

Fury climbed to his feet and nodded. 

“We’ll get you all on a plane to Washington-” he stopped as Natasha shook her head, red hair swinging about her face. “No?”

“You have to bring her here.”

“Here?” Fury’s expressionless mask cracked and he chuckled like what she’d said was funny. She supposed it was. “In two days New York City will be the most dangerous city in all of America. Bringing here here is-”

“You want my help? You bring her here. I’ll talk to my people. Charlie Roan started resisting this year. My people? They’ve been living in this city, the _most dangerous city in all of America_ , for their whole lives. They’ve been resisting just as long and they won’t leave their people.”

Natasha knew Fury really was desperate when he sighed, then pulled out his cellphone and said, “Fine. She’ll be here in a few hours.”

“You get her. I have calls to make.”

Shaking his head, still texting, Fury headed for the door.

“You better know what you’re doing,” he called as he opened her front door, “because Charlie Roan is our best hope to make this bullshit stop.”

Natasha didn’t call back. She hoped she knew what she was doing, too.

\----

“No,” Bucky Barnes put his hands on his hips, standing before Natasha with his hair long and flying wildly about his face, “she can’t come here.”

“Barnes,” Sam Wilson said, his tone of voice meaning to argue, and Bucky whirled to face his friend.

“There is no way in hell we can protect her _and_ this building, Sam. It’s not going to happen. We barely keep this place safe as is, and this year? Have you _seen_ the number of people who are seeking shelter already? The Purge is still over a day away.”

“Bucky,” Bucky’s shoulders slumped and Natasha knew he was beaten before Steve Rogers even finished his sentence. From the look of him, Bucky knew it too. “We can’t turn anyone away. That’s the point of this. That’s _always_ been the point.”

“Steve-”

“If we don’t help Charlie Roan put a stop to this Purge, think of next year.” Steve Rogers stood, all five foot four inches - shorter than Natasha - and yet with more presence than anyone Natasha had ever met. “Your argument is we can’t keep this up forever, and you’re right. We can’t, but if we help Senator Roan, we won’t have to.”

Worry poured off Bucky liked water, but he shoved both hands through his hair and turned to the room at large.

“Clint?”

“I’ll call Jessica and Luke, they wanted me to drop by, help their patrols, but we’ll have bigger fish to fry.”

“Jesus, Clint,” Bucky threw up his hands, “that is not how you side with a guy.”

Clint Barton, a man Natasha had never seen worried or nervous, lay across the back of the living room’s beat-up couch. Those patrols were the reason Natasha knew these guys, knew about the few defenders in New York City. He had changed her life, had given her a chance to clear out the red in her ledger, and this was how she repaid him: asking him to go on a suicide mission.

An arrow in hand, Clint shrugged, even as he smiled at Bucky. 

“You didn’t want me to side with you anyway.”

Grumbling, Bucky turned back to the room’s only other occupant. Matt Murdock was unassuming, harmless at first glance. If Natasha hadn’t seen him in action, she never would have believed it to be true. Part of her still didn’t, since he was blind. And a lawyer.

“And your verdict?”

“I say,” Matt rubbed his chin and looked to Steve like he could see him, “you call Jessica, Luke, _and_ Danny and Colleen. I say you get their people here.” Steve’s eyebrows drew down, his mouth opening as if to protest, but Matt laid out his argument first. “You’ve talked about it before. You’re all stronger together, so, let’s be together. It’ll be a tight fit, but if this is the last Purge, everyone can learn to deal.”

“Not a bad idea,” Clint said, his voice a sing-song.

“Are we sure we’d have room?” Sam asked, but he was sitting forward. Natasha didn’t care about logistics. She cared that they were all there and that they were going to help. There was no longer a sign to say they wouldn’t.

“I’m going to get the senator here,” Natasha interrupted. “You boys figure it out. I’ll try to make sure no one notices where I take her.”

Absently, Steve nodded her way, already engrossed in his battle plans. Bucky flashed her a quick smile, murmured thanks, and focused on his best friend. As she walked out the door, they began discussing traps, perimeters, guards, and logistics. Like they were professionals, not amateurs. But, like she’d told Fury, these guys had been resisting all their lives. Clint, Steve, and Bucky were all self-trained marksman, some of the best Natasha had ever seen. Sam knew the basics of combat, but his skills leaned towards medicine and patching up the wounded when most EMTs, doctors and nurses refused to be out on Purge Night. The others - Jessica, Luke, Danny, Matt, and Colleen - could go toe-to-toe with her in hand-to-hand, all martial arts experts of one sort or another. Every single one had been protecting their parts of the city since they were old enough to sneak out of safe houses for no other reason than they believed the Purge was wrong. An opinion that few people their age held any more.

The safest place in America, when the whole country went insane and ran red with blood, would be with these people. Natasha had meant to spend Purge Night with them anyway, likely watching Sam’s back when he did something stupid like leave the apartment building in Bed Stuy that Steve, Clint, and Bucky looked after every year. Or she’d follow Clint as he left to check on Luke, or Jessica, or Danny. They were good guys, the best she’d ever known.

Natasha prayed she hadn’t gotten them all killed.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and visit me on Tumblr
> 
> [cleo4u2](http://cleo4u2.tumblr.com)


End file.
